Lycanthropy of a Poe Poem Anti-Social Music

At morn--at noon--at twilight dim--
Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!
In joy and woe--in good and ill--
Mother of God, be with me still!
When the Hours flew brightly by
And not a cloud obscured the sky
My soul, lest it should truant be
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee;
Now, when storms of Fate o'ercast
Darkly my Present and my Past
Let my Future radiant shine
With sweet hopes of thee and thine!